Where Loyalties Lie
by Emmalie Perkins
Summary: The first time Katherine Moran had ever met the notorious leader of the Peaky Blinders; it had been at the request of her old friend and business associate, Alfie Solomons. However, what begins as a typical business discussion, soon becomes a game of survival, when it is revealed that her new acquaintance—Thomas Shelby—is involved in a vendetta with none other than Luca Changretta.
1. old friends

**i. old friends**

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It was the brink of January when Katherine had first received a letter from her old friend and business associate, Alfie Solomons. The letter itself had contained a mess of jumbled words that only Alfie could manage to string together in such a way as to leave the reader more confused than when they had first started.

Due to this—unique—ability of his, It had taken Katherine quite some time to decipher the words he had scrawled across the worn sheet of paper. It had been a proposition, made in seemingly good faith, but it had felt more like an insistence. A command.

She had shaken her head at that but continued nonetheless to reread the last half of the letter. The part that insisted that she should take a break from her monotonous duties in New York and sail out to London to visit his brewery in Camden Town.

Katherine, at first, had been hesitant to take him up on his offer. For she knew that his words rarely ever held kindness and consideration as their founding. No. Anything this man offered would always have an underlying angle that would, in some way, benefit him. So it had been with a deep resounding sigh that she inquired after the actual reasoning behind his recent letters to her.

Nearly a week would pass before she would receive Alfie's final letter. Its contents indulged her curiosity as it described his newfound partnership with a gang leader from the city of Birmingham. A Mr. Thomas Shelby of Birmingham, to be exact. His two-page letter went on to explain further that Mr. Shelby had been flirting with the prospect of expanding to the Americas.

Katherine could tell from the excitement that bled through his heavily inked words that Alfie had seen the possibility in this endeavor and had wanted to pursue it. And since Katherine was the only reliable contact he had in America, he had wanted to her help with the expansion.

While she still maintained some of her reservations, she ultimately relented to Alfie's wishes and boarded the nearest boat for London. Not even bothering to send a letter of her compliance. Her presence would be confirmation enough when she arrived.

However, her lack of a return letter left Alfie unprepared for her visit. Thus leading to her current predicament of being held at gunpoint in the lower portion of his distillery.

Katherine, in a show of peace, held her hands up at her sides but kept her stance dignified and unthreatened by their attempts to instill fear. She had been held at gunpoint plenty of times in her life. So the shock of a gun aimed at her head was non-existent at this point.

The only question she had on her mind was how long it was going to take for Alfie to get informed of her arrival. She didn't want to be at the mercy of these trigger-happy gentlemen for much longer.

Another minute passed before Katherine was fed up with waiting. The term 'Fuck it' crossing her mind as she opened her mouth to speak. But the words died on her lips when one of the men from earlier came into view. Upon first glance, Katherine had thought the man's return to be leisurely and unconcerned, but further inspection of his persons revealed that he was noticeably frazzled and uneasy. Good. It meant that he had informed Alfie of her presence.

The man came to stand beside the two gentlemen who's guns were still trained at Katherine's head. Their eyes never left her as the man began to speak, his Irish inflection thick, but clear: "Lower your guns, boys. She's with us."

Only at the man's word did the other two gangsters lower their weapons. The one who had spoken—a man with dark brown hair and sparkling green eyes—took a step forward. His body now placed directly in front of her in an attempt to ease her mind. It was a useless gesture that she found to be somewhat entertaining in a painfully ironic way.

The man then offered his hand in greeting, "We're sorry for the confusion Miss—"

"Moran," Katherine provided with ease as she took his hand into her own. "Katherine Moran."

"Well, Miss Moran. We were not made aware of yer arrival to Camden Town."

"Yes, well, my departure was sudden. Too sudden for any prior warnings."

The man gave a curt nod in reply as he turned to face the aisle he had just emerged from, "This way, please."

Katherine followed the green-eyed Irishman without question. Her mind consumed with thoughts of Alfie and the inconvenience she must have caused him with her 'unexpected' arrival. However, she speculated that her arrival was far from unexpected in Alfie's mind. To him, her lack of a reply was a reply in and of itself. With any luck, he believed it to be her acceptance and not her decline.

The two of them soon came to a large oaken door, which had its upper half partially hollowed out with glass. Through the thin pane, Katherine could see Alfie's burly form hunched over at his desk as he flicked through an assortment of papers.

A small smile tugged at Katherine's lips. It had in fact been too long since she had last seen the eccentric Jew. His ruthless and unpredictable ways were off-putting to most. But to Katherine, they were simply the traits that made Alfie Solomons who he was: a damn good businessman.

Katherine's pale eyes were brought back to the Irishman as he proceeded to open the door with a slight bow. Katherine tilted her head in thanks before stepping into Alfie's office.

Alfie's eyes remained trained on the parchment clutched in his hand as Katherine sauntered up to his desk. With a strange sense of familiarity, she seated herself on the lone chair before his desk, her elbows casually propped on either armrest.

For a moment, silence passed between them, neither quite interested in starting a dull and clunky conversation that would undoubtedly begin with 'how have you been?'

Katherine loosely intertwined her fingers, "I accepted your invitation." Why bother with pleasantries when you've known the other for years?

A grin split Alfie's once stoic features, making the now thirty-six-year-old look years younger. It pleased Katherine to know that Alfie was still capable of smiling. And the smile suited him, even if it did appear to conceal a dastardly plan.

"Aye, mate, you did," Alfie concurred as he slumped back in his chair. "Got my men real worked up you did."

Katherine shrugged, "I like to make an entrance."

Mimicking Katherine's position on the chair, Alfie laced his fingers together, his face falling into a far more natural unreadable state.

"Now that you're here; our dinner reservations with Mr. Shelby can proceed."

"Dinner reservations? I thought you were more the type to have back-alley meetings. Not dinner dates."

Alfie groaned. "It wasn't my idea."

"Yet you went along with it?"

"It makes him feel more at ease since it's somewhere he's familiar with," Alfie said with a vague gesture of his hands.

"Ah," Katherine nodded, "Makes sense."

Crossing one leg over the other, Katherine waited a baited breath before approaching the subject she truly wished to discuss. "In your letter," Katherine broached in a leisurely manner, "You mentioned that Mr. Shelby had wanted to expand his reach to the Americas. Why, exactly, does he wish to do that?"

If Katherine had been waiting for Alfie to react in some negative way to her question, she was going to be sorely mistaken. For the only reaction he gave was that of a few half-hearted scratches to his beard.

"Fuck if I know, Katie. The fucker likes to keep his cards close to him."

Katherine hummed. She didn't fully believe her friend's words, but she was in no place to question his integrity. So in an attempt to shift the conversation, she asked the first question that came to mind: "Do you have the time?"

Alfie was stalk still; his chin cushioned on the knuckles of his right hand as his dark eyes bore into her own, daring her to voice the accusation that lay at the tip of her tongue.

And she was tempted to take the bait and unleash her doubts upon him. But in her current state, she didn't quite measure up to the mental capacity it would take to spar with him. She would have to forgo this battle for another day.

Katherine shifted in her seat, her head tilting to the side in a show of temporary submission. And when she spoke, it was low, soft like silken sheets, "Alfie, what time is it?"

The corner of Alfie's lips ticked up; his earlier assertion of dominance was now forgotten and replaced by a sense of carefree jovialness. Without looking, he reached into the pocket of his waistcoat and pulled out a bronze pocketwatch. He barely glanced at the damnable contraption before answering, "Tis half past the setting sun."

"English, Alfie. Please."

Alfie let out an exasperated sigh. "What the fuck happened to you, Katie? You used to be fuckin' fun," he grouched. "It's 5:30."

"Thank you."

"Why, exactly, do you wish to know?" He ventured, "It's not as if you're here to see anyone else. Now, are you?"

Katherine smiled, her palms now pressed together atop her propped up knee, "No. No, just wanted to know so I could plan my evening accordingly."

"Yes, well, I'm afraid to say that your evening has now been spoken for, Katie."

Katherine's eyes narrowed as she arched a perfectly manicured brow. She wanted to question him. But assumed that he would tell her soon enough.

Rising from his seat, Alfie looked down at her, a smirk teasing his lips as he spoke, "Me and you, yeah? Are going to take a nice leisurely drive to the heart of London and have a quaint little dinner with the one and only, Thomas Shelby."

Katherine could only sigh. Not only had he been expecting her; he had also anticipated the date of her arrival. Sometimes, she thought, the unorthodox Jew was psychic. Or, perhaps, she was just that easy to read. Neither option sat well with her.

While Katherine's mind volleyed with the possibility of her weakness, Alfie reached for his coat and wide-brimmed black hat. When he was ready, he came to stand beside her, snapping his fingers to draw her attention when she refused to meet his gaze.

Katherine blinked at the gesture but gave no real indication of annoyance as she returned his gaze. It was then, she noticed, that he had offered her one of his large, calloused hands.

She took it without hesitation.

The car ride to the restaurant was silent, peaceful, save for the occasional comment that Alfie would toss to her and their driver. But they were few and far between and comprised of mostly sardonic commentary.

Katherine was both thankful and fearful of Alfie's blessed silence. He wasn't typically the type to stay quiet for long. Which only added another notch to her belt of suspicion.

What was he keeping from her?

That single question ran on a consistent loop in her mind, leaving her cautious and on edge. It was then that the car finally came to a subtle stop. Katherine took in the surrounds from her window; noting the individual shops that lined the street. Her eyes also befell a quaint little restaurant, that she could assume was their scheduled meeting place with Mr. Shelby.

The building was simple and to the point. Katherine found herself liking the place without even having eaten there yet.

"Ready to meet our date, bubbala?" Alfie asked with a hint of humor.

Katherine glanced over at him, "Of course."

Their driver got out of his seat and walked to Katherine's side of the vehicle. The man opened the door with a bow as he offered her his hand.

Katherine took his hand with a soft, yet audible, "Thank you."

The man merely touched the brim of his hat in acknowledgment as she stepped from the running board. He then moved to the other side of the car to let Alfie out.

Alfie took a deep breath, "Ah! Nothing like the smell of stale piss and blood!"

"Eloquent, Alfie."

The only reply Katherine received was a barely noticeable shrug. Katherine sighed yet again as she placed her hand on the inner part of Alfie's proffered forearm.

Fully aware that they were here on business, the two made sure to exuded nothing but dignity and businesslike eloquence when they entered the restaurant.

While Alfie told the maître d' of their reservations, Katherine let her eyes drift across the many faces that sat just beyond them. None she recognized, but some she would remember in some shape or form. She also noticed that many of them had far outdressed herself and Alfie.

But that—of course—did not affect her current companion. Oh, no. When it came to outward displays of dominance, Alfie was the undefeated champ. And he would love nothing more than to inflict it upon an audience of pretentious snobs.

God, she hoped this meeting went well. The last time she was privy to one of his little power trips she had gotten shot in the shoulder. Not an experience she wished to relive.

With that thought, Katherine once again regarded the maître d' as he turned on his heel to lead them to their table. Katherine skirted past several occupied tables before coming face-to-face with Alfie's newest associate, who had risen upon their arrival.

At first glance, Katherine had thought him to be death merely clothed in human flesh. With pale skin, angular cheeks, and eyes that shone with such brilliance, they could pierce the soul of whomever they chose. And despite being shorter than the man at her side; he stood tall. His stature was lean, yet imposing in the way that he emanated sophistication and deadly promise.

He was beautiful, she thought. Beautiful like the devil and probably just as deadly.

Ensnared by her musings, Katherine nearly failed to notice the man's crystalline gaze set upon her. He said nothing. But then again; he didn't need to. His eyes spoke for him as they made a blatant sweep of her form. He was sizing her up. In what way; she couldn't be sure. All she knew was that she felt bare beneath his gaze. Vulnerable.

Thankfully, Alfie took mercy on Katherine and broke the encompassing silence. "Mate, this is the associate I was telling you about," he said gesturing to her with his free hand, "The one from America."

Katherine offered the man a friendly smile as he took a casual step toward her, his hand extended in greeting. "Ah, yes. Mr. Solomons has told me a fair deal about you."

With an airy laugh, Katherine removed her hand from Alfie's arm and returned the greeting, her grip gentle yet firm. "For some reason, that doesn't quite surprise me."

Alfie grunted. A sound that was somewhere between disapproval and acknowledgment.

Katherine purposefully ignored the disgruntled fellow beside her. Her blue-green focus set solely on the fathomless depths before her. "I'm Katherine by the way; Katherine Moran."

For a split second, a smile flitted across the handsome devil's face, "Nice to finally make your acquaintance, Miss Moran. My name is Shelby, Thomas Shelby."


	2. new enemies

**ii. new enemies**

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 _ **Author Note:** Thank you guys so much for sticking around and giving this story a chance! My plan is to update this story about every Sunday until I reach certain chapter "milestones" where I have to begin writing on the next batch of chapters. Currently, I have three out of twenty-five chapters complete. Updates should continue to be pretty regular until I reach chapter five. Comments, faves, and follows are always appreciated!_

* * *

After their brief, yet telling, introduction, the three of them moved to sit at their table. Katherine sat across from Tommy while Alfie placed himself at the head of the table; acting—in a sense—as a mediator between the two.

Katherine knew it was a small show of loyalty on Alfie's part. A gesture which she greatly appreciated given her current disadvantage in the situation. For no matter how friendly these men portrayed themselves to be. They were ruthless gangsters all the same.

Not much unlike herself, she noted somberly.

It was then that their waiter chose to make his debut, taking their beverage orders with a refined eagerness that Katherine found oddly endearing.

When their waiter finally left to retrieve their drinks, the three of them continued to pass light pleasantries to one another. None of them too keen to begin their business when their waiter was expected back at any given moment.

A few quiet minutes passed before their waiter returned; a platter balanced precariously on his palm. With surprising ease, he placed the drinks beside their respective owners. A tumbler of whiskey for Tommy, a fresh glass of water for Alfie, and a Soixante Quinze for Katherine.

The young waiter flipped the tray beneath his arm and addressed the table, "Is everyone ready to order?"

Katherine glanced at both Thomas and Alfie before responding, "Yes. In fact, I believe we are."

After the waiter had jotted down their orders, he scurried off to attend to the other patrons, leaving the three of them to begin their business in earnest.

Katherine sat back in her seat, a sigh playing dangerously at her lips as she debated her next move. She knew it was only a matter of time before they clued her into the real reason she was here, but she was sick of waiting. Sick of being at the mercy of their deceit. She wanted answers. And she was going to get them.

She took a light sip of her drink, steeling herself for the onslaught to come. "Alfie has told me a fair deal about you as well, Mister Shelby."

Tommy glanced over at their hulking companion before turning to regard her. A smirk playing deviously at his lips, "Has he now?"

"Why yes; he has told me you have big aspirations for your business," Katherine replied with a smile. "An expansion, if I remember correctly."

Thomas hummed. Neither confirming nor denying her statement. However, in her mind, it gave her all the ammunition she needed to pursue this line of questioning further.

The smile that Katherine had put in place remained, but her turquoise eyes shone with something different. Something far less friendly and inviting. It was a change that didn't go unnoticed by her current company.

"However, I'm not so sure I believe that, Mister Shelby. Cause the last time I checked; the Shelby's already owned a branch in Boston."

"Katherine," Alfie suddenly warned. His voice a deep rumble that all but demanded that she tread lightly. Whether it was with him or Mister Shelby, she wasn't sure.

Katherine looked to him out the corner of her eye, "Don't 'Katherine' me, Alfie. You lied to get me here. And I want to know why."

"She's certainly an astute young woman," Tommy commented as he lit the tip of his cigarette. He then shifted back into his seat, taking a deep drag of the nicotine; letting its fumes fill his lungs before speaking once more. "You're right, Miss Moran. Alfie did, in fact, lie to get you here. But he did so to keep you safe."

Katherine took another sip of her drink, not at all buying this so-called act of gallantry from Alfie. "Is that so?"

"Indeed."

"Hm, then what exactly was he protecting me from?"

Even though Alfie had remained quiet up until his earlier outburst, he had chosen to supply her with the answer. "The Mob."

Katherine notably flinched; the action unintentional, but instinctual. She gently placed her champagne glass atop the sheeted surface of the table. A thousand and one thoughts crossed her mind at once. However, all of them paled in comparison to the seething rage that was now building beneath the surface.

She rolled her bottom lip between her teeth, distressing the flesh for a moment, in an attempt to soothe her rage. She needed to remain calm. Releasing the abused flesh of her bottom lip, she asked a single question, her voice now holding a deathly edge. "Which one of you are they after?"

One of Tommy's brows quirked up, "How do ya know they aren't after you, eh?"

Katherine huffed out a laugh. "Because, if they were after me, I would've already of heard about it." Willing the tension from her shoulders, she added, "Alfie also wouldn't have let me anywhere near this continent if the mafia were on my case."

Alfie glared at her. "It's nice to know you think so fuckin' highly of me, mate."

Katherine smiled in return. It was a surprisingly cheerful smile considering her current displeasure with him. "It's a fact," She said turning back to Thomas. "So with that in mind. The only reason he would want me here is because they're after one of you. And you need my help to be rid of them."

Tommy chuckled, but the sound was empty. Devoid of all emotion as the last ounce of civility slipped from his demeanor. It was only then that Katherine noticed that his jawline was pulled taut. The sharpness of his features seeming almost painfully drawn as he leaned forward against the table. His eyes locked with her own, trapping her within their glassen depths. "You are a clever one, Miss Katherine. So I don't think you need my response to know the answer, eh?"

Another, more alluring smile tugged at Katherine's lips. It was a reactionary habit of hers. A tendency that she developed when she learned of it's disarming effect on the opposite sex. However, it wasn't serving her as she had hoped it would now. Instead of lulling the man into a false sense of ease, it caused his gaze to sharpen to the likeness of a dagger, piercing her being with such a fierce intensity that it rivaled the fires of hell.

Katherine wanted to fidget, to move, to do anything that would give way to her discomfort. But she knew she couldn't afford to do that. For if she did, it would be a blatant display of weakness on her part, and she wasn't weak. No. Years of enduring her father's tyranny had taught her much about the workings of this world. At least enough to know not to show weakness in the face of a man who fed upon it as if it were his favorite brand of liquor.

The faint impression of a smirk crossed Thomas' features. He knew he had her cornered. And she hated him for that. Hated him for the way that his gaze alone could leave her feeling so vulnerable and weak. He was every bit the man that the rumors had made him out to be.

A fact that left Katherine clenching her teeth in a vague attempt to withhold the sarcastic quips that resided at the tip of her tongue. She gave him a single glare before composing herself once more. Her gaze just as empty as his own had been. "Mister Shelby—"

Just as she had begun to formulate her next course of action, the distinct sound of a gun blast reverberated throughout the restaurant, casting an eerie silence upon the once bustling establishment. People—including themselves—began to rise from their seats as another shot rang out toward the back entrance. But unlike the others, Alfie, Katherine, and Tommy did not flee for the nearest exit. They instead waited a moment longer, their hands hovering above the location of their hidden pistols.

The three of them exchanged glances as they began to back away from the table, slowly inching their bodies closer to the front entrance. Katherine's eyes swept across the now nearly empty restaurant. In a desperate search for any nearby cover that could withstand the assault of a Tommy Gun.

However, her search was in vain. For higher class restaurants weren't necessarily designed to host shootouts between gangs. A fact which left Katherine more than a little irritated. Mister Shelby sure had picked a hell of a place to hold their meeting.

In her peripherals, Katherine caught a glimpse of the intruders as they barreled through the doors of the kitchen. With only seconds to react Katherine yelled for the others to get down while she ducked beneath a nearby booth.

Suddenly, a loud chorus of shots rang overhead, turning the once immaculate dining establishment into a chaotic war zone. Shattered glass and debris filled the air, obscuring the three of them from their assailant's view.

Gathering her wits, Katherine quickly tugged at the hem of her dress, pulling it up the side of her thigh, so she could withdraw the small twenty-five caliber that she had kept hidden in her stocking. And while it was nowhere near as powerful as the other guns currently present, it could still inflict quite a bit of damage if aimed correctly.

Katherine let out a breath, willing the tension from her shoulders, as she glanced to her left. She was relieved to find that Alfie and Thomas had managed to survive the initial onslaught. But her relief was shortlived. Their current position left them open on both sides, making it virtually impossible for them to move from that spot, unless under the protection of return fire. Katherine groaned. Of course, the one time she needed the forty-five, she packed the fucking twenty-five!

Shifting her weight to her knees, Katherine called over to the boys, though she was sure her voice would get lost amongst the ruckus surrounding them. "Got any ideas?"

Alfie continued to lounge leisurely against the slanted surface of the table, seemingly unaware of her question. While Tommy, on the other hand, tore his gaze from the firing squad long enough to brandish his revolver.

Great.

Katherine adjusted her grip on the pistol, fully prepared to piss-off their assailants with her puny little twenty-five caliber.

Just when Katherine thought there was going to be a break in gunfire, the room lit up with bullets once again, but this time the sound was accompanied by the screams of newly injured men.

Katherine furrowed her brow as she looked over at the other two. Tommy seemed just as confused as she was, but Alfie appeared almost—pleased?

By the time Katherine realized what was happening, the gunfire and shouts had already ceased their incessant racket. A few moments passed before a man called out, his voice familiar. "Boss! It's all clear!"

"It's 'bout fuckin time!" Alfie suddenly shouted; rising from his position as though they weren't just recently subject to a firing squad. He gestured for Katherine and Tommy to follow suit, his hand moving with an uncharacteristic amount of enthusiasm.

With his gun still in hand, Tommy stood up, his eyes boring a hole into the back Alfie's head. He briefly glanced over at Katherine who was busy crawling out from under the table and smirked.

The corner of Katherine's mouth twitched, her patience with these two growing thinner by the second. But before she could voice any form of complaint, Tommy's hand came into view. It was a silent offer that she reluctantly chose to accept.

Her weight settled heavily on his palm as she pulled herself to her feet. Once she had gained her bearings, she withdrew her hand and took a step back, allotting them the space she felt they needed. "Thank you, Mister Shelby."

"No need," Tommy replied with the lift of his hand, his voice warmer than it had been earlier. He then turned on his heel and walked over toward Alfie, who now stood with his men near the doors of the kitchen.

After brushing the splintered pieces of wood from her dress, she too made her way over towards the others, catching the tail end of an exchange she hadn't heard.

"Yes, well, we ran into a few more 'uninvited guests' outside."

Alfie grunted, "Leave one 'em alive?"

"Of course," the Irishman replied, his voice laced with an unsettling amount of cheer.

Katherine shifted uncomfortably. Nothing good will come of this.

The Irishman turned to lead them through the doors of the kitchen, gesturing briefly for two other men to step forward. Held between the two men was the limp and battered body of an Italian. His face was beaten and bruised with copious amounts of blood marring his overall visage. But some of the blood, Katherine had noted, seemed to originate from a single gunshot wound in his abdomen.

If the man were lucky, Alfie would show mercy and put him out of his misery, but the likeliness of that occurring was slim to none. To show mercy was to show weakness in Alfie's eyes. However, this logic only seemed to apply to those that actively threatened his own interests. Still, the Italian didn't have a prayer. Alfie needed information. Why else would he inquire about survivors?

Alfie stood before the battered man, his hand draped atop the curve of his cane, while Katherine and Tommy stood to either side of him. "Well, looks who's gotten himself caught in a snare."

The Italian lifted his head. His eyes gleamed with defiance as he spat a glob of blood at Alfie's feet. He was rewarded with a swift punch to the gut by the Irish Jew who had led them there.

Alfie raised his hand, "Now, now, Daniel. I can fight my own battles, right, yeah?"

Daniel took a step back, his body more rigid than it had been before. "Of course you can, sir."

With a pleased hum, Alfie stepped forward, his cane was no longer pressed into the tile, but held slightly aloft. Katherine wasn't sure what he was planning, but she soon got her answer, when he rammed the end his cane into the still bleeding wound of the Italian.

The man cried out, his lips moving to form words that Katherine had learned long ago to decipher. His words were a desperate plea for a painless death to Saint Joseph. Katherine, while subdued in her beliefs (or lack thereof), was saddened by the man's deference to his fate.

"Your Saint won't spare you from the pain I indent to inflict upon you, mate," Alfie spoke softly. "Want to die a quick death? Tell us all you know about Luca Changretta and his plan."

Changretta...

Katherine shifted from one foot to the other, her eyes zeroing in on the back of Alfie's skull. What the fuck?!


	3. a place known as small heath

**iii. a place known as small heath**

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 _ **Author Note:** Just wanted to drop a note here to say thanks for all the faves and follows, guys! It really means a lot to me and gives me copious amounts of inspiration to keep going even when I feel like dropping this whole project. That being said; chapter four is going to be delayed for a bit. There are a few kinks in the plot that I have to figure out what I'm gonna do since this is a complete au of season four. But don't worry! It's slow going but I'm getting there!_

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From the passenger side of Tommy's car, Katherine watched as the darkened city passed in a blur. Her mind still reeling from the knowledge that Luca Changretta was the man behind the attacks on Thomas Shelby and his family.

It had taken everything within her not to throttle Alfie right then and there. His choice to omit such a crucial piece of information was infuriating. He knew her family had ties—reluctant as they may be—to the Changrettas.

Such a reveal had left her feeling thankful for Alfie's decision to kill the Italian. However, that decision was based solely on the fact that the Italian had attempted to escape. If he hadn't. . . Alfie might've let him live. So he could tell Changretta of the carnage that his men were capable of inflicting. And possibly the involvement of one of Changretta's previous clients.

The very thought sent a chill down Katherine's spine.

When all was said and done; Alfie had suggested it best for Katherine to accompany Mr. Shelby to Birmingham. So that she could—in his own words—assist them in peace.

Katherine sighed. What the hell had he gotten her into? Was he not aware of the threat that this posed for her and her family? She rolled her eyes. Hardly. He was more than aware of the danger. He just didn't give a damn one way or the other.

Before her anger could mount any further for the man with a glorified tophat, she was called back to reality by Tommy.

"I'm of the understanding that you have ties to the Changretta family," he spoke open-endedly. The sentence was laced with the makings of a question, but he cleverly withheld the urge to inquire directly. He wanted her to offer the information.

Luckily for him, Katherine was in a sharing mood. She gave him a sideways glance, "At one time, yes."

Tommy hummed, his gaze still solely trained on the road ahead, "Interesting."

"It's not what you think."

"And what exactly do I think, eh?"

A smile curved the corner of Katherine's mouth, though the action lacked any real merriment. "You think I fucked him."

She could hardly see it out the corner of her eye, but Tommy had arched a brow. She was unsure if it was from genuine shock or just a pure form of mockery on his part. "Such vulgar language Miss Moran," he finally said, his voice bearing the slightest hints of humor.

"And yet, it's the truth," Katherine stated flatly. Tired of staring at the passing scenery, she turned in her seat, her back now lent against the cold metal of the door. For a moment, she regarded Tommy's silhouette with blasé interest. Debating whether or not to proceed with the questions that ran rampant in her mind.

She was aware that she was about to do something that she would more than likely regret. But at this point, she was done playing it safe. Katherine no longer wanted their dodgy replies. Oh, no. She wanted a full-length, ten-page, explanation of what the hell was going on. And if that meant she had to question a man she barely knew, then so be it.

"Since I've answered your question," she said folding her hands atop her lap. "I've one of my own: what did you do to stoke the Changretta's wrath?"

Tommy looked at her then, his gaze hard and unreadable. It was apparent that she had touched a nerve, but before she could do anything to soothe the tension between them, he looked back towards the road. "A life for a life," he replied solemnly.

At a loss for words, Katherine nodded in understanding and turned to face the front windshield. A life for a life. . . It was a phrase that she had heard far too often from those that she associated with.

More than willing to let the silence encompass them, Katherine took to the details that made up the small city they now traversed. From what Tommy had mentioned earlier, this industrious hovel was known as Small Heath. He also said it was the city that he and his siblings had called home at one time. Though he was reluctant to refer to it as such now.

Such disdain for the place you were born was something she couldn't quite comprehend. For the best moments of her life took place where she began. The same, however, could not be said for where she currently resided. Only blood, pain, and resentment could be found there. Hell, it was in the very foundation that comprised the home she lived in.

"We're here," Tommy announced, cutting in on the Katherine's straying thoughts. He then chose to park alongside a paved walkway that connected numerous buildings. All of which looked to be of similar build and appearance.

Barely registering that Tommy had gotten out of the car, Katherine opened her door and stepped out into the cold chill of the night. Suddenly, she was thankful for the woolen coat that hung from her shoulders. Winters here were far worse than the coldest nights in New York it seemed.

Pocketing her bare hands, Katherine turned to Tommy, who was now busy lighting his third cigarette of the evening. He took a deep drag of the nicotine and tilted his head in the direction of a nearby building. Wordlessly, she complied with his instruction and followed.

A cigarette hung from the corner of Tommy's mouth as he unlocked the door of a rather unassuming building that differed only slightly from the others. However, this difference was only found in how dark and empty this house was in comparison to its neighbors.

This observation put Katherine on edge. Would her newfound acquaintance attempt to kill her in the bleakness of this home? Foolish, she corrected herself. Since Alfie had told Tommy of her ties to the Changrettas, it was safe to assume that he would want to use her as an informant. And informants weren't useful if they were dead.

Tommy pushed open the door. "For the time being, this place will act as your home," he informed, flicking on the entryway lights. He then stepped to the side of the door, his hand still resting on its handle, waiting for her to enter as he had.

To say that Katherine was hesitant would have been an understatement. But what choice did she really have at this point? With that thought in mind, she stepped across the threshold. "You and Alfie have been planning this for a while, huh?"

Tommy regarded her for a moment, his expression neutral. Pliant, even, given their recent acquaintance. However, she suspected his pliancy only went as far as to guarantee her cooperation in his plans. It was a tactic she would highly praise if given any other circumstance, but as it stood, it only served to annoy her.

"Alfie has, yes," Tommy stated succinctly. "I was only made aware of it a few days in advance."

Katherine chuckled, "That sounds about right."

Pulling out his pocket watch, Tommy noted the time, "I have other matters I must attend to Miss Moran." He returned the watch to his waistcoat before gesturing with a tilt of his head up towards the stairs. "Your bedroom can be found upstairs and to the right. If you need anything; two guards will be posted outside."

"For my benefit or yours?" Katherine inquired, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips. For she knew very well his reasons for posting guards outside her lodgings.

Without missing a beat, he replied, "Both."

Katherine hummed in surprise, "An honest answer?" She smiled as a sign of her lighthearted attempt at humor. "Color me impressed, Mister Shelby."

Tommy scoffed, his eyes betraying no real malice as he stepped forward to leave her to her new humble abode. "Have a good evening, Miss Moran," he said shutting the door behind him.

Now left to her own devices, Katherine allowed herself a single drawn-out groan. She knew that life could change in the blink of an eye, but this was ridiculous! No. It was worse than ridiculous. It was utter lunacy!

Katherine shrugged the coat from her shoulders. Then draped the dark, fur-lined, garment across her forearm before ascending up the wooden steps that led to her room. She needed to phone Norrington as quickly as possible. He needed to be made aware of the potential threat against her mother and sisters. But given Tommy's earlier demeanor; any attempts to do so would more than likely be met with hostility.

For now, she needed to wait, and buy her time. A tactic she was never particularly great at. Katherine rolled the tension from her shoulders, pushing open the door to her room with only the slightest hint of hesitance. Despite her nearly guaranteed safety in their presence, she still felt the need to stay on high-alert. If she were declared traitorous in even the most minuscule of ways, her life could automatically become forfeit.

Heaving out her hundredth sigh of the night, Katherine slowly made her way into the darkened room and over to the nearest bedside lamp. Which sat illuminated by a thin sliver of moonlight that had managed to peak its way through the drawn curtains of a window.

Katherine tugged on the short pull chain that hung from the bedside lamp. The bulb sprang to life, casting the room in a faint orange glow as she turned back around, her green eyes softening with nostalgic appreciation. It was rare to find a place that reminded her so much of her own childhood home, but it appeared that this country was just full of surprises. Be it pleasant or otherwise.

Her eyes continued their slow sweep of the bedroom; taking note of its darkly colored walls, worn furniture, and fraying carpet. If she stayed here for any length of time—something she desperately hoped would not happen—she would have to invest in some updated pieces.

Katherine shook her head of the useless thought and walked to the opposite side of the room. Before her, stood a large mahogany wardrobe, that was worn and imparted with many embellishments. Some were nicks and scrapes while others were decorative flower designs that extended along the individual doors.

Her hand, of its accord, reached out trace the intricate pattern. Her mind drifting to moments that were now only painful reminders. Moments where her family was happy and whole. Her jaw clenched. "Damn this place," she whispered almost brokenly.

Choking back whatever emotion had risen to the back of her throat, she opened one of the wooden doors, exposing a wide array of dresses and blouses. Katherine huffed in annoyance but left it as it were.

She took the coat from her arm and folded it over itself, before fitting it neatly into the bottom of the small compartment. She then busied herself with removing her dress, shoes, and stockings. Once they were stored in their rightful places, Katherine donned the first nightgown she could find, a soft silken garment that was dusted in a light shade of pink.

Padding her way back towards the bed, she removed her golden jewelry, placing the delicate pieces on the bedside table. She then quickly curled herself beneath the extra thick comforter, praying that her body heat would soak into the material, warming her even further.

Katherine shifted to her side, her legs now huddled close to her stomach. She stared at the wall across from her, acutely aware of the still open door that led to the upstairs hallway. If she had any sense of forethought, she would have shut the door behind her, and then locked it for good measure. But apparently, she possessed no such skill, since the door remained wide open for anyone to enter.

She stifled a groan. Why couldn't she have thought to do that **before** she decided to lay down? She rubbed her head against the pillow, suddenly too exhausted to even bother. If she were to meet her death while she slumbered. . . so be it.

Finished with her internal debate, Katherine shifted farther into the comforting warmth of the mattress, her mind drifting to a time long since passed. When nights were met with peals of laughter, lullabies, and gently placed kisses to the forehead.


	4. birmingham blues

**iv. birmingham blues**

* * *

 **Author Note:** _I am so sorry that this has taken so long to get done. This chapter was rewritten like three times because I wasn't happy with the first few versions. I would also like to state that this where it truly begins to deviate from season four's plot, however, it will still have elements of the original plot woven into it. Anyway ... I hope you guys enjoy the chapter! And please let know what you think of my adding Tommy's POV to the story._

* * *

Morning came as an unwelcome affair that had Katherine stumbling down the stairs to answer the front door. A robe clutched tightly against her chest in an attempt at modesty. She opened the door, "Yes?"

Katherine was surprised to find that the one who stood on the other side of the door wasn't, in fact, Thomas Shelby, but a woman who looked to be not much younger than herself. She stood with such dignity and pride that her demeanor reflected nothing short of influence and authority.

The woman smiled, though the gesture didn't quite reach her eyes. Was she Tommy's lover? Dear God, she hoped not! Things were already hard enough. She didn't need the added headache of a jealous lover. Before Katherine could even think of what to do in response; the woman wordlessly motioned to be let inside.

Katherine's sleep-ridden eyes narrowed. Even if the guards had permitted this woman to pass, it still didn't mean that she wasn't a threat. Men, more often than not, overlooked women when it came to acts of violence and cruelty. So when Katherine refused to step aside, the woman smirked. "It's good to see that my brother has dragged someone with a brain into our family drama."

"Brother?"

An inscrutable expression crossed the woman's features, "Yes. The one you spoke to yesterday ... Tommy?"

"I wasn't aware that he had a sister," Katherine carefully remarked, pulling the door protectively closer to her person. "Care to enlighten me on who you are?"

Irritation flared in the young woman's eyes, causing a small bubble of mirth to rise at the back of Katherine's throat. While self-preservation was high on Katherine's list of priorities, she couldn't deny the impish delight she derived from being a thorn in another's side.

"My name is Ada Thorn," the woman supplied.

Katherine recognized that name, "Of the Boston branch?

"Why yes," Ada said with mock cheer. "And you would be, Katherine, if I'm not mistaken?"

There it was again. That half-hearted attempt at civility. Katherine almost admired the woman for her dedication to the craft. Civility would be far from her mind if her own family stood at the precipice of annihilation.

"No, you are not mistaken," Katherine replied, her voice baring the slightest semblance of warmth. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Miss Thorne?"

Ada adjusted her stance. "Tommy has asked me to show you around Small Heath," she informed, "As a gesture of good faith."

Katherine blinked, more than a little surprised by Tommy's consideration. He owed her absolutely nothing, yet he was offering her a day out on the town? She smiled, withholding a chuckle. He was attempting to sway her to his side. As if she wasn't already beholden—in some regard—to the situation and its outcome.

However, she couldn't deny that it was still a very kind offer for him to make. And while loaded in its intent, she was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. For now, she would give in to his whims and allow him to believe that he was succeeding in his efforts. It would be simple enough. Easy, even.

With a superficial smile, Katherine invited her in. "If you would be so kind as to wait here, Miss Thorn," she said amicably, "I will be down in a bit."

* * *

All was quiet when Tommy had first arrived at the betting shop. His need for solitude was evident in the hour at which he chose to head into work that morning. But no amount of isolation could bring him the reprieve he so desperately sought. For as the hours ticked on, night soon turned to day, and with it came the promise of new problems. Problems that he would undoubtedly have to find solutions to.

The very notion tore a deep seeded sigh from his lungs. How much longer would he have to play this game? All of it was meant to end with Vicente Changretta. Not continue. The sheer irony of it made him chuckle. Though it was an empty, hollow, thing that barely resembled the merriment it signified.

"The devil never forgets," Tommy suddenly stated, "And neither does a Changretta."

A moment passed in pure, contemplative, silence as Tommy recalled all that had happened up to this point. It was his fault, he knew. And because he knew, he nipped sharply at the inside of his cheek, drawing forth the familiar tang of blood.

Tommy—since changed by the atrocities of war—had never been one to wear his emotions on his sleeve. Preferring, instead, to bury what he felt behind a carefully constructed mask of indifference. But now that his family stood in the crosshairs of an ancient tradition, cracks had begun to make their way across his facade, letting slip emotions he had thought were all but gone.

It was annoying. And all too damning.

Tommy rubbed at the bridge of his nose. Now that he thought about it; his newest countermeasure was something of a damnable variety. The fact that she had caught on to their little ploy quick enough to call them out on it was startling. Her loyalties—while guaranteed by Alfie—were still unknown to him. He would have to make certain for himself that he could trust her.

The added weight of this endeavor made Tommy gulp back what remained of his whiskey. This was his third glass of the day, he recalled almost belatedly, and it was _far_ from his last.

* * *

When Katherine had first met Miss Thorn, she had been uncertain of what to think of the woman, given the strangeness of their meeting and all. However, after having spent the better part of a day in her company, Katherine had to admit that she liked her spirit.

It reminded her of her own sister, Alice, who was of a similar character. No one could tell that girl what to do. She did what she pleased; appearances be damned. However, Katherine didn't quite get the feeling that Ada was as reckless as her sister. She was a force to be reckoned with but knew when to stay her hand. It was a trait that Katherine wished Alice would obtain.

What surprised Katherine even more, was how little she seemed to act like her brother. Tommy had been distant and unforthcoming at best. But Ada, she had been kind and understanding of her situation. It was a sympathy that she hadn't been expecting but was grateful for nonetheless.

However, she still held onto her reservations. They just simply chose to remain at the back of her mind for the time being. For this was a moment of reprieve. A brief respite from the insanity that would undoubtedly take place in the days to come.

It was this thought that drove her to bask in the tranquility of the small, quiet, cafe that Ada had chosen for their afternoon luncheon. In all honesty, she was astounded by how peaceful this place was, it was leisurely in a way that was rare to find nowadays . . . at least when it came to the cities of her country.

The prohibition had wreaked substantial havoc on the minds of her people, forcing many—law-abiding—citizens to seek solace in another, more readily available, beverage. Which meant, what had once brought her relief and a moment contemplation, now only brought migraines and love for her at home coffee maker.

Katherine blissfully blew at the billow of steam that rose from her cup. It was nice, being able to go out and enjoy a nice cup of coffee, without the hassle of people throwing elbows.

It was then that Ada looked up from her teacup, her expression seemingly impassive as she stared at the woman across from her. "My brother says you have insight on the Changrettas ... is that true?"

"Yes," Katherine responded, "And no."

Ada's brows pulled together, obviously confused by such a response, but before she could voice her confusion, Katherine spoke up.

"Yes, I know a fair amount about the Changrettas." She placed her cup back on the table. "However, I am unsure if the information that I possess will be of any use to you."

"How could it not be?" Ada suddenly questioned. "Those bastards killed my brother. So any information is better than none."

Katherine hummed, "So the attack at the restaurant wasn't his first."

"No."

Katherine looked down at her lightly creamed coffee, carefully considering the question she was about to ask. She stared at the caramel colored liquid for what felt like hours before coming to a decision. "How?"

"How? How what?"

Her gaze returned to Ada, "How did he die."

A myriad of emotions crossed her companion's features. Some of them she recognized as anger and disdain while others were of deeply held anguish and sorrow. Katherine could only watch as Ada vacillated between these differing emotions. However, she soon settled on a hollow detachment that spoke volumes of how she felt in the wake of her brother's demise.

It was an emotion that Katherine never wished to experience. She had felt the pain, and she had felt the anger, but she had never felt the loss. No. What shone back through Ada's eyes was something she had never truly experienced. And that alone sent a shiver down her spine.

Ada took a sip of her tea, attempting to dispell the gloom that had settled over them. She then gently placed the teacup back on its saucer and began, her voice little more than a whisper, "It was on Christmas day. They opened fire and, well, he didn't make it. They also nearly killed my cousin who had gone there to warn him and his wife."

"Was he—"

"A father? Yeah." Ada's eyes glistened, "He had six to be exact."

For a moment, Katherine sat there in utter silence, her mind weeding through the options that lay before her. If she chose to stay and assist them; it would be at the threat of her and her own. But if she refused ... where would that leave Ada and the remaining Shelbys?

She let out a barely perceptible sigh as she rose from her seat. This was not going to end well, she thought, reaching into her clutch to retrieve a handful of shillings. She hoped it would be enough to cover her coffee and biscuit. The last thing she wanted was to be in debt to them.

Ada looked up at Katherine, her tear stricken cheeks shimmering against the dim lights of the cafe. Confusion once again clouded her features, "What are you doing?"

"Paying for my lunch," Katherine replied. "I want you to take to your brother."

A small glimmer of hope lit up Ada's expression, "Why?"

"Because there is something I need to discuss with him," Katherine choked back the bile that had risen in her throat, "And Alife."

Ada smiled and quickly rose to her feet, "Then I'll take you to him!"

* * *

Tommy sat hunched over at his desk, poring over the seemingly endless stacks of paperwork that he had neglected to fill out that morning. He was more than a little surprised that today had passed as quickly as it did. Especially when he had given Ada the task of escorting their newfound acquaintance around Small Heath.

To be honest, it would have been a lie to say that he wasn't thankful for his current obligations, for it staved his mind from worrying about Ada and whether or not she had managed to win Katherine over to their side. It was an unconscious venture on his part, but it was one that he hoped would pan out in his favor. Because he needed to guarantee Katherine's loyalty. He couldn't afford to have someone with as much influence as she did to go against him.

"Fuck," Tommy sighed. There he was getting distracted again. Why his mind insisted on wandering at a time like this was beyond him. If anyone could sway a person one way or another, it was Ada.

Before Tommy's thoughts could trail further towards the woman with turquoise eyes, Lizzie stormed into his office, her expression one of sheer uncertainty, "You're needed. Now!"

Without a moment's hesitation, Tommy rose from his seat and followed as Lizzie led him to her reception desk, where the two women he had just been thinking about now stood. However, they were not alone. Polly stood across from them. Her stance one he had seen many a time since their falling-out.

As he and Lizzie approached, he could tell that trio was bickering amongst themselves, with Katherine and Polly acting as the main spearheads of the argument. From what Tommy could hear, Polly was drilling Katherine for information on the Changrettas, while Ada stood adjacent from them trying to quell the rising tension.

"Polly," Ada pleaded, "Please calm down!"

Polly turned on the younger woman. "Do **not** tell me to calm down," she snarled. "This bitch owes us some answers!"

Katherine brows shot up. "How do you figure that?" she questioned, her voice low with thinly veiled irritation. "Last I checked, I wasn't brought here by choice, but by circumstance."

Polly's eyes narrowed, but before she could voice her verbal assault, Tommy stepped between them, his hands hovering just in front of their chests. "No fighting," Tommy said, his head turning from one to the other, "Alright? No fighting."

Ada visibly sighed, grateful for Tommy's intervention. If the bickering had been allowed to go on for any longer, it would have no doubt devolved into a physical altercation, with Pol inevitably pulling her pistol on their guest.

Polly scoffed as she glanced at her niece and nephew. She stepped away from Tommy's hand and moved to sit against Lizzie's desk, suddenly disinterested with her previous task.

Tommy eyed her for a moment before turning to Ada, "What are you doing here?"

"She said she needed to speak with you."

Tommy shifted his focus to Katherine; hopeful that she had chosen to side with them indefinitely.

"What are you doing here," he softly reiterated in an attempt to sway her further.

Katherine arched a delicate brow, clearly, unimpressed by his use of caressing words. It was aggravatingly admirable that she did not fall for his falsified shows of endearment, though, it only served as a crux in his efforts to gain her confidence.

Biting back his irritation, Tommy locked eyes with her. He was pleasantly surprised when he saw the softness in her gaze. Perhaps his words had made an impact, he thought, watching the blues of her eyes shift closer to green. However, it quickly became apparent that the softness of her gaze did not come without its own intentions. She was searching for something. Something he couldn't quite name.

A brief moment passed between them before Katherine—who was seemingly satisfied with whatever she had found—opened her mouth to speak. But her words never gained fruition. For it was then that Arthur stumbled into the betting shop...


End file.
